I Beg
by wildpeace
Summary: Set  and written  immediately post-Mash Off.  The slap's still reverberating around the room, but it's not the only thing hurting.  Santina friendship. Klaine. Brittana. *Tike*.


The slap is still reverberating around the room when Santana turns and runs up the stairs and out of the auditorium, her heels clattering loudly in the stunned silence. Finn's hand is pressed against his cheek and everyone else is just trying to pick their jaws up off the floor.

In the front row of seats, Mike reaches across and takes Tina's hand, squeezing hard.

"Santana!" Brittany's off the stage and taking the steps two at a time - fully intent on following the sobbing brunette out of the auditorium - when she's stopped by a grip on her bare arm.

Mr Schuester's face is contorted and uncomfortable and he shakes his head. "Leave her for a minute," he orders, and Brittany's face falls. "She just needs some time." Brittany stares up at the exit, her brow furrowed and her fingers coming together, arms pressed tightly to her sides like a shield but Mr Schue just pats her shoulder and raises his voice. "Right, everyone, competition's over. Go home."

It takes a long moment for anyone to move. Mike can feel Tina's hand shaking in his and he squeezes her fingers again and leans over in his seat, keeping his voice at a low murmur. "You okay?"

When she turns to him, her face is stricken and pale. "No."

Standing up, he tugs her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her. All of the Trouble Tones have disappeared back stage to change and disperse, and Finn and Rachel disappeared immediately following Mr Schue's dismissal. Puck's pushing Artie's chair and trailed by Quinn and Rory, already halfway up the auditorium. Only Kurt and Blaine remain, sat at the back, their heads close together.

Tina trembles in Mike's grip, and he presses her tighter against his chest. She'd missed Glee one day that week for being sick and he knows all of the animosity is getting to her. He can see the fractures in her; they started off deep down but they're becoming more and more obvious. He wonders if he holds her tightly enough he can stop her from coming apart.

They stay that way for a long time; he murmurs nonsense words of comfort against her hair and her skin and into her neck and can feel the way her hands fist tightly in the back of his shirt and her breathing shudders. He catches Kurt's eye over Tina's shoulder but the other boy quickly looks away, as though to spare them their privacy. As though there's already been too much intruding on each other's relationships this week.

"You guys?"

Tina and Mike pull away from each other - slowly, reluctantly - and look up at the stage where Brittany is standing back in her regular clothes, backpack over one shoulder, hair pulled up in a ponytail and a worried look on her face.

"You okay Brit?" Mike holds his hand out for her to help her jump down from the stage, and realises her cell is clutched tightly in her other fist.

"I've been calling Santana for the past ten minutes. And texting. All her things are here: her jacket and her bag and her keys. And I don't know if her phone's off or she's just not answering..." Brittany chews on her lip, looking down at her cell screen as though it might suddenly light up. But it stays dark.

"She's probably locked herself in the bathroom by the Science rooms," Tina assures Brit, reaching out to rub her arm. "Come on, we'll go and find her. I think she might need some friends right now."

Nodding her head, Brittany lets them lead her out of the auditorium and through the halls, her hand still tightly in Mike's. Tina walks beside them. Their check of the bathroom turns up empty, so they split up, trying some of the other rooms in the school that are known for being sanctuaries of privacy. There's something really sad, Tina thinks, that the places she normally uses to share joy and love with Mike - secret make-out spots for the middle of the day - could be used for such a heart-wrenching purpose. Hiding. Hurting. But in all the places - the locker rooms, the art closet, the janitor's closet, under the bleachers - there is just empty space. In the end, they re-congregate in the Auditorium. Pulling herself up on the stage Tina takes a look around.

"Her things are still here," she says, picking up Santana's jacket and backpack, and at the declaration she sees something dark flash in Mike's eyes. Her stomach - already in knots - begins to tighten and twist.

"You still haven't found her?"

The voice is new, and when Mike looks up he sees Kurt and Blaine entering from the top of the Auditorium. Kurt has his coat on and buttoned up to the neck and Blaine is loosely holding his hand. They both look windswept. "I've been outside trying to call her."

"She's not answering her phone," Brittany tells the two boys, and leans into Kurt's touch as he reaches her side, his hand rubbing her arm gently. "I'm worried about her."

Mike, Tina, Kurt and Blaine all share a look in that moment: a dark look, full of a concern that none of them will put voice to. Swallowing thickly, Mike turns to Brit and squeezes her hand. "Where would she go?" he asks her, because of all people, Brittany is the most likely to be able to get inside Santana's head. "Without her keys, without her car, where would she go to hide Brit?"

They make a list of all the possible places she could be - all the things that Brittany can think of - and then arrange themselves into parties. "We've got three cars," Mike observes. "I'm going with Brit. Tina, you go with Blaine - he doesn't know his way around Lima as well as the rest of us. Kurt, you okay going solo?"

They all nod, seemingly relieved that Mike's taking point in this moment, because Brittany's holding his hand *so* tightly and still turning her phone over and over. Every so often she presses and holds number 1, but each time it goes straight to voicemail and her face grows a shade paler.

In the parking lot they split up, but not before Mike cups Tina's cheeks and presses a long kiss to her lips. "I love you," he tells her, their foreheads pressed together. "And she's going to be okay."

"I love you too," she replies, blinking tears from her petrol lashes. "But you don't know that."

Tina slides into Blaine's stormy blue Figaro and watches as Brittany waves sadly from her place in the passenger seat of Mike's Honda. Tina wiggles her fingers back and closes her eyes tightly as Blaine starts the engine. Music blares at first - making them both start - but Blaine reaches forwards, snapping off the radio. The silence is both comforting and ominous. "Sorry," he says softly, and then looking over at her he takes in the way her hands are clasped together and her eyes squeezed shut. "What are you doing?"

Licking her lips, Tina drops her chin slightly. "Praying."

"That we'll find her?"

Tina's eyes, when she opens them, are round and dark and full of unshed tears. "That we'll find her before something terrible happens."

xxx

Constant phone contact tells them that after almost two hours, no one has had any luck finding her. Mike's taken Brittany back to her house in case Santana shows up there but he says if they don't find her soon then he'll head back out and keep looking. A call to Santana's home had told them she hadn't gone there - with or without her keys - and Mike with his clunky High School Spanish had even tried her grandmother, to no avail.

"We should call the police," Tina murmurs to him softly when he calls to let her know they've had no luck so far. Next to her, Blaine takes a left at her gesturing but remains silent, listening carefully.

Mike's voice is weary and she can imagine him running his hands through his hair. He sighs heavily. "Kurt said the same thing. If we don't find her soon then I will. I promise."

xxx

They drive around for another half an hour and Tina alternates between keeping her eyes open and staring like a hawk, and squeezed tight in silent prayer. Like Brittany, she's taken to dialling and redialling Santana's number in hope that suddenly the call will connect and she'll hear her friend's voice, but so far she's only been met with silence. It's getting dark out - and cold - and Tina shivers in her seat. They're just driving by the park - stuck behind slow moving traffic - when something catches the corner of Tina's eye, and then she's grabbing Blaine's arm and tugging at her seat belt. "Stop the car!" she shouts, and is pulling the door open and stumbling out before Blaine's even had the chance to pull up to the sidewalk.

Through the chain link fence and across the patch of waterlogged grass, a single figure sits on a swing. She's overdressed for a playground and the back of her bare neck shines bright white in the moonlight. Tina picks her way across the grass - trying not to slip and not even looking behind to see if Blaine is following - and towards Santana's side; when she's almost upon her, she can see the dark circles beneath her eyes, the long-dried tear tracks staining her cheeks.

"San?" she breathes, gently, but she doesn't reach out, not yet. Like a deer caught in the headlights, the last thing she wants is for Santana to bolt.

Instead, Santana just turns her head, even so slowly, as though she's surprised to see her there. "Tina," she acknowledges, but her voice is strangely flat and deadpan.

Edging a couple centimetres forward, Tina studies Santana intently. There are no bruises, not cuts, no empty bottles of pills or liquor lying around. She seems fine, unhurt, just...empty.

"We tried calling you. Me and Mike and Brit. And Kurt and Blaine. We were worried about you."

Nodding her head, Santana stares out over the empty playground. "I turned my phone off."

"Santana - "

There's a pause, and then a hiccup, and then Santana's facade breaks, and tears begin to flow down her cheeks. "Why did this have to happen?"

Tina's at her side in an instant, arms going around the other girl - and _God _she's freezing to the touch - holding her tightly, holding her up. "It's going to be okay," she assures, rubbing her hands up and down Santana's icy skin, trying to share any body heat she has. "We're here for you okay? All of us. We love you. You're not going to have to do this on your own."

Santana's sobs rip from her chest and her whole body shakes. "Everyone's going to know. Kids at school, teachers, my _parents_." Her voice breaks on the last word and Tina's really worried she's going to hyperventilate so she holds her even tighter, murmuring for her to breathe slowly. Over Santana's shoulder she can see Blaine on the phone and serious.

"You haven't told them?"

Shaking her head, Santana shivers violently. "The only person I've told is Brittany. I didn't even get to tell the rest of you losers." The word is spat but venomless, and Tina ignores the barb.

She's about to speak, but her words are cut off by footsteps on the frosty grass. Blaine steps up behind them, a blanket in his hands, and Tina is suddenly *really* grateful that he's the kind of guy who carries an emergency kit in the back of his car because Santana's face is *so* pale and her hands are shaking *so* hard. "Here," he says softly, unfolding it and wrapping it around Santana's shoulders. She sniffs - surprised to see him - but huddles further into the blanket's woollen warmth. "I just got off the phone with Kurt. His dad talked to Reggie Salazar. He said if he broadcasts the advert then he's going to sue the pants off him."

His hand lingers on Santana's shoulder for a moment, and he squeezes just once. Santana doesn't look at him, but raises a hand, her fingers tangling with his. He catches Tina's eyes over the top of Santana's head. "Santana, you need to get out of the cold," Tina prompts her gently, kneeling down in front of her and not caring how the frozen ground hurts her knees. Her finger ghost Santana's bare knee. "Mike and Brittany are at her house, do you want to go there? Or to mine, or Kurt's, or home, wherever you want to go."

"Why don't we get in the car, and then decide?" Blaine suggests, and when Tina looks up his triangle brows are knotted in concern. "We can turn the heating on and talk."

When Santana finally nods in agreement it takes both of them to help her off the swing. Her body is stiff from the cold and exhausted from the heartbreak, and Blaine has to wrap his arm around her middle to stop her swaying.

"I can walk on my own," she tells him, but there's no real bite to her words.

"It's more fun if we do it together," he replies with a gentle smile and Tina sees Santana's eyes flash in acknowledgement.

xxx

In the back of the car, Santana sits huddled under the blanket and Tina scoots right next to her, wrapping her arms around the taller girl. Santana's head rests on her shoulder, and Tina takes one of her hands, rubbing it between her own, wiggling each of the fingers in turn and blowing hot breath on her skin. Blaine turns on the heating, directing all the vents towards them, and is relieved when a little colour returns to Santana's cheeks. He starts the car with no real direction in mind.

"Do you know where you want to go?" Tina asks gently, taking Santana's other hand and giving it the same treatment. It's still icy to the touch but not so red raw.

Santana turns her head so her words are muffled against the shoulder of Tina's coat. "Nowhere's safe."

In the rear-view mirror, Tina's eyes clash with Blaine's and they share a dark look. She feels like they've been doing that a lot this evening.

In the end, Blaine drives them to Brittany's house, and Tina just holds Santana as she stares blankly out the windows. When they pull up outside, two familiar faces are sitting on the front step, and at the sight of Blaine's car Brittany jumps to her feet. She in pyjamas, sneakers pulled on underneath, and Tina can see the tear track stains on her cheeks.

Pulling up, Blaine and Tina help Santana out of the back of the car but barely get two steps before they're knocked aside by Brittany. Her arms go around Santana and hold her - fiercely, tightly, so relieved - eyes squeezed shut and lips murmuring words that are inaudible to the others standing around. Tina watches as Santana nods her head, shoulders slumped, rough wool blanket still hugged around her body, and then as the two girls pull apart just enough that they can walk towards the door.

Mike holds the door open for Brittany and Santana, and they're almost inside when words trip from Tina's lips. "Anything you need," she calls out behind them. "We're here, okay?"

There's a pause, and Santana looks back over her shoulder. "Thank you."

The two girls walk inside and the door clicks shut behind them, hiding them from the world.

xxx

They say goodbye to Blaine with hugs and handshakes and ask him to give Kurt their thanks and Mike starts driving Tina home without prompting. While she'd been fairly calm while focused on the task of finding Santana, now her hands are shaking again despite her heavy winter coat and the heat in the car. Reaching across he laces their fingers together. "Tee..."

She shakes her head, hard and insistent. "Don't."

"It's okay."

Twisting her body in the seat, she looks at him, incredulous. "How is it okay? How is anything that's going on right now okay?"

They reach her house and she gets out of the car, pulling her messenger bag with her. It gets caught on the door handle and she tugs once, twice and then curses loudly, throwing it to the ground. It seems like the last straw, because tears start creeping from between her lashes and dripping down her nose and she presses the heels of her hands against her eyes.

Slowly, Mike approaches her, and reaches out to touch her hair. "Babe," he murmurs, and his voice breaks just slightly because he can't bear to see her hurting. "We're going to get through this."

"We're not." She shakes her head again, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. "It's too much. And it's not just today it's - it's everything. Mercedes, Santana and Brit leaving us? Santana turning into a colossal bitch just to push everyone away? Brittany letting her? Rachel and Kurt so wrapped up in NYADA that they don't see it? Blaine trying to fit in. Rory getting shoved against lockers. Whatever the hell is going on with Quinn and Puck. Finn outing people in the halls. For God's sake,_ your_ _Dad _disowned you, Mike."

His face crumples then, uncomfortable and exhausted, and with a sigh, he just reaches out and pulls her to him. "I don't know what to say," he admits into her neck, hugging her fiercely. His arms go around her body and hold her tight against him. "Whatever else...me and you Tee...it's what I hold on to. The thing that tells me we're going to be okay."

Letting him sway her, as though to the music only he can hear, Tina sniffles slightly. "You promise?" she asks, and her voice is very, very quiet.

"No," Mike says, rubbing her back, pressing his lips to her skin. "But I hope."

He says that he loves her, and she says it back, and the two of them stay holding each other in the dark night.

xxx


End file.
